


Lucky Thirteen

by FatalYaoi



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Oneshot, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalYaoi/pseuds/FatalYaoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Wesker knew luck was a matter of perspective. After all, he was number Thirteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Thirteen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doom-Overlord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Doom-Overlord).



**Lucky Thirteen**

Albert Wesker would never say that he was lucky, that was a matter of perspective. Though, lying beside the gorgeous brunet made him consider it momentarily. Despite the things he had sacrificed and the trials Umbrella had pushed him through, he would do it again. Possibly not for the brunet beside him, that would just plain thick, but for himself because he was meant to succeed.

Over the years, Ozwell E Spencer had said many things but ' _you will do great things_ ' was the single most spoken sentence and Wesker believed it possibly more than anything.

Albert released a quiet sigh as he pushed the thought of Spencer from his mind. It had been mere hours since he and Chris had sex and pondering his upcoming betrayal would do him no good. The blond could feel the awkward anguish radiate from the brunet whenever the two were caught in silence but Albert simply could not say a thing, even if Chris knew there was  _something_  wrong.

The blond eyed the brunet through the shadows of the moonlight and sighed when he saw Chris, subconsciously, tighten his grip on the blonde's arm which had been tucked over his side to keep him warm. Unfortunately, being back to front was far from enough to keep the brunet warm due to Wesker's silky cold black sheets and he frequently turned to Wesker to warm him.

And of course, Albert Wesker did.

Now, however, he was being held captive by the brunet and he truly did not want to wake the S.T.A.R.S member. After several minutes of attempting to snake his arm from the brunette's grasp, he exhaled in defeat and huddled closer to Chris.

"Wake up, Pet," Albert muttered, nudging the brown hair that tickled his cheek with his nose to further stir the brunet.

"Nng—What?" Chris groaned, ignoring the abnormally delicate approach Wesker seemed to take in the situation.

"Release my arm," Wesker stated carefully.

"Oh, sorry," Chris mumbled. The brunet immediately released Albert's arm and shifted to his opposite side when the blond stood. Chris watched him cross the room before, inevitably, losing his battle to sleep.

Albert made his way through his shadowy hall where he found and opened his linen closet. Inside were countless sets of the same, exact, black silk sheets and a single extra blanket bought and kept only for Chris. It was black, matching the sheets almost perfectly but the material was fleece making it, automatically, stand out from Wesker's sheets and prohibiting it from a permanent place on his bed. He clutched the blanket and pulled it from the top of his mound of sheets, allowing it to fall out of fold once in his hand.

Unsurprisingly, Chris's scent suddenly blew past him in the light breeze created from the moving blanket. A large part of the blanket fell from the higher shelf and forced the intoxicating smell into Wesker's senses sending a small pang of guilt through him.

If he was absolutely truthful, Albert did not want to leave Chris.

Chris had been the one part of his life that had yet to abandon him and he intended to keep it that way. A slight twitch of anger came and left at the thought of William, his only friend, but the moment was gone and the scent of Chris relaxed him far quicker than it should have.

Upon returning to his bedroom, a soft snore filled the room and the blonde sighed at Chris's lack of control though immediately regretted the thought considering he was the reason Chris was exhausted. A smirk was planted on his lips as Wesker made his way to Chris's side and tossed the blanket over him.

It landed somewhat over him but Wesker could not possibly bring himself to push past his ego and fix it for him. Instead, he settled on allowing the brunet to awaken and fix it himself whenever Chris found it too cold to continue sleeping. Satisfied, Albert rounded the bed and just as he slipped under his beloved silky sheets, Chris spoke.

"Thank you."

"Of course."

Chris was silent following that and Wesker cursed himself that he had not even noticed the brunette's snoring cease when the blond placed the blanket on him. Within several moments, heavy breathing resumed and Wesker was able to relax. His eyes were on the ceiling and his hands cradled the back of his head comfortably.

He could not help but smirk.

It was a painful smirk, possibly filled with regret or pain but it was there.

The blond assumed it stemmed from just how unlucky he was; like he thought it was sardonically funny that he, 'lucky thirteen', was being forced to leave the one person he had ever had the fortune of falling for in the many years he lived.

Lucky Thirteen.

There was that smirk again.

It was a nickname he acquired by William. The two had laughed and joked about the subject on many occasions but Birkin had never truly known the pain Wesker had gone through or the many hours spent behind a cell. That one shot that ended so many lives—it was indescribable so Wesker had never tried. William never questioned like the good, obedient friend he was and accepted simply laughing about the matter as if any of it was funny—both men knew very well it etched Albert's future into an unknown stone somewhere but nobody spoke about it just like nobody spoke about the large number of subjects that were unable to make it through the injections.

In any case, the nickname stuck but not many knew of the unappealing term of endearment and Chris would never be one of those people.

Albert Wesker had two sides to his life and Chris just simply was not allowed to cross the line to the soon-to-be permanent side.

Albert just would not let the brunet do that to himself; even if Chris wanted to do it for Albert.


End file.
